


Standard Lines

by queenslayer



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Modern AU, Sibling Incest, Smut with a smidge of fluff, Tension, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenslayer/pseuds/queenslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Postgraduate contemporary AU featuring Cersei and Jaime Lannister on the night before her wedding to Robert Baratheon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standard Lines

The dull roar of the television hummed in the background as the glow from the screen illuminated the dark room. Packing boxes were littered across the hardwood floor of the master suite in Cersei's penthouse. The luxurious property was a gift from her father when she had entered undergrad, and she had lived there ever since, for the past eight years, high above the city of King's Landing, high above them all. While she missed her childhood home in Casterly Rock, the city was the best place for her schooling, career, and the future. She was determined to stay, no matter what, and although her twin brother Jaime hadn't been accepted in to the same prestigious law school as she, he had still moved with her. He attended a smaller, private college, so they could fulfill their dreams together in the same city, but he had not found quite the same success as his sister. Jaime had always been interested in other pursuits, but studied law to please his father, and Cersei, of course.

Her deft fingers ran through the silky strands of Jaime's golden hair as his head rested in her lap. His emerald stare was fixated on the action of the movie, a film she would have never chosen to watch on her own.

"How many fucking movies can Marvel possibly make? I swear to the gods that they remake each and every one of their terrible movies once every two years. They aren't even good anymore...oh wait," she paused, her voice dripping with annoyance. "They never were."

"Hey!" Jaime said, his eyes never leaving the flat screen as his hand reached for the half-emptied bowl of popcorn that was nestled against his abdomen. "Don't talk shit about Marvel. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Cersei laughed softly, amused that he was so easily roused by a subject that was seemingly inconsequential. Her brother munched on a handful of popcorn, his unbecoming behavior slightly cute as he rested by her side in nothing but some loose fitting black sweatpants. They hung low on his hips, his skin sun-kissed from his summer of lifeguarding on the Sunset Sea in their home of Casterly Rock, something he had done every summer since they were 16. She hadn't seen him since May, since she had passed the bar examination, and he had not. Cersei thought he may have done it on purpose so he could have one more summer of fun, but something told her he just wasn't ready. Not even Jaime would purposefully fail because the wrath of their father, Tywin Lannister, one of the most ruthless and well-respect lawyers of Westeros, was almost too much to bear.

Rain began to fall against the paneled windows, a streak of lightening tearing through the sky as thunder rumbled in the distance. The flash illuminated the room, catching the intricate beading of the white wedding gown that hung in the doorway of Cersei's massive walk-in closet. Each crystal was placed by hand, the dress itself weighing well over 40 pounds, and with a dramatic train to match. It was strapless, but elegant, a beautiful summer gown reminiscent of something daringly Dornish. In less than twelve hours she would be preparing to marry Robert Baratheon, Steffon Baratheon's shipping heir. The knots twisted deep within her belly, an impossible lump stuck in the base of her throat, unwilling to relent. This wasn't cold feet, nor was it love. She didn't love him, but she thought that maybe she could learn. Still, something wasn't right.

"How horrible would it be if I wished for the rain to flood out the venue so tomorrow is not a thing that has to happen?' Cersei spoke without thinking, her stare filled with void as she watched the rain fall hard against the windows. Jaime turned his attention back to his sister, his hand reaching for the remote control that was on top of a moving box at the side of the bed serving as a temporary nightstand. He muted the television, sitting up as he turned to face her. She was different, and had been these past several weeks. Jaime liked to think he was at a better place with the situation, but he didn't burden her with the pain that would strike his heart tomorrow when he would have to watch the love of his life pledge hers to another man.

"You don't have to do this, " he answered her the only way he knew how. "You will satisfy father's desire for a moment in time, and then what? He will want something else, and then after that, something more. This is how it always is with him, and we are like these dogs begging for a bone. It's never enough."

Cersei shifted her body, a biting stare nipping at him with narrowed eyes. "What would you know? You can do whatever you want, whenever you please. For fuck's sake, you can fail the bar and spend the summer surfing and fucking 18-year-old girls straight out of high school, and father would still allow you a place at the firm." She was bitter, the poison spitting from her tongue hardly wounding her brother as he was plenty used to it. But the one thing that did bother him was when she implied that he would take another woman, something he wished he even could consider. He belonged to her entirely, whether he liked it or not.

"This again?" He shook his head, his hand covering his face as he felt the fight that was coming on, one that could not be avoided. "You really don't get it do you? I would do anything for you, absolutely anything. I would put you in my jeep right now and drive you to the edge of nowhere if I could. Anywhere but this fucking toxic city. It has changed you, Cersei. You're just like the rest of them, all of them. And for what? Some illusion of power?"

Cersei twisted her body, legs hanging over the side of the mattress as she pushed herself up and out of the bed. Jaime shook his head, setting the bowl of popcorn down to the floor as he prepared to endure her wrath. 

"Don't you fucking lie to yourself and pretend you don't enjoy the top just as much as I do. You may not want to lead, but you sure are comfortable above the rest of them! That doesn't just happen, Jaime, it is something you have to work for, but what would you know about work? You only do what comes naturally so you don't have the opportunity to fail."

"You come naturally, and look at me now, /failing/...," he quipped, somehow managing to feel more confident rather than less. He stood up, walking over to meet her on the other side of the bed. She made him weak, even now, /especially/ now when she was like this. There was something about her anger that made him want to be the reason for it to all go away. He was the only one who knew her like that, the only one she would allow to know her like that.

"Quit the martyr bullshit, Cersei. The only person you have to blame tomorrow night when you have that drunken frat boy on top of you is you." Jaime instantly regretted the words as they left his mouth, but before he could take it back, she had cracked a hand across the line of his jaw. The slap hurt her more than it did him, but the sting was welcome across her palm, making her feel as though she had some kind of power over him. He remained stoic, his jaw flexing as he watched her eyes glass over. "Cers—" he reached out a hand to her wrist, but she pulled away before he could.

"Get out. Now! Go. You know exactly where the door is."

"You don't want me to go. I know you don't want me to go." Jaime said, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I know exactly what I want, and it's for you to get the fuck out of my apartment." She said calmly, but he could see the rage, the blood that had flushed her face red with fury. 

Jaime had no choice but to go. He put his hands up in defeat, somehow broken that he wouldn't get to spend this final night with her. Once he reached his side of the bed, the side that always belonged to him since before he could remember, he began to gather his belongings, wanting to make sure that he didn't leave a trace of his presence. 

Cersei stood with her arms folded over her chest, wearing his rowing team shirt from college. It read Lannister across the back with Jaime's number, a heather gray color that was far too big for her. Still, it was her favorite shirt of his, and she'd never give it back. He looked at her as he put one leg after the other into a pair of dark wash Levi's. The jeans hung low on his hips as he stuffed his cell phone in one pocket and his wallet in another. 

"I'll be here tomorrow to get you in the morning."

"Don't bother. I'll arrange something else."

"Cersei, stop this..."

"I said that I'll arrange something else."

Jaime's eyes narrowed with a shake of his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he put on his t-shirt. 

"Fair enough." He said turning to leave her bedroom without another word or glance. 

It suddenly felt so empty when the elevator chimed to take him down to the lobby. Cersei's bare feet patted across the dark hardwoods and into the living room to see that he had really left. He had. She glanced over to find the flowers that he had gotten her earlier that day in a vase on her breakfast bar. She shoved them off with a single push, the glass shattering into dozens of pieces at her feet. She had half a mind to step on the jagged pieces, wanting to feel some kind of pain, anything other than /this/.

It was then the elevator chimed again, and Cersei became startled. The stainless steel doors parted to reveal her brother once more.

"I forgot my—," he began, but saw the scattered vase and lilies at her feet. He sighed in dismay, but this was his sister, this was how she was, and he couldn't say he was surprised.

But before Jaime could respond, she was in his arms, pulling herself up and on to his body after she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. His hands found the back of her thighs, pushing her further up on to his waist as she kissed him with a hunger. 

"Don't you dare leave me," she breathed against his open mouth, her legs wrapped so tightly around him even he thought he couldn't pry her away. 

Jaime had thought this night would have gone differently as it was their last together before she was to be married. He thought that he would have her slow, and for the whole night. He wanted to /sleep/ with Cersei, one last time. But here they were, like they had always been, desperate amidst a fight. 

"Never," he growled as he pushed her against the wall, using it to support her weight as a hand reached between the two of them to undo the button of his jeans. 

She was pinned there, aching, waiting for him to free himself. She pulled at his hair, and then his shirt, eager to feel his skin. "Hurry," she commanded, her heavy breaths filling his ear. 

Jaime didn't take the time to remove her black lace panties. Instead, he pulled them to the side with two fingers. He watched as the tip of his need pushed into her roughly, connecting them as his hips curled under her own. 

"Fuck," he grunted, the fingers of his left hand still on the back of her right thigh, digging into her skin. Cersei's head fell back against the wall, her back arching to make its way further up the wall, to take him deeper. 

Jaime looked up to find his sister panting, her skin glowing under the light of the moon as it spilled in through the massive windows of the penthouse. Her eyes were closed, long lashes free of any makeup, and her mouth open. The sound of him entering her was almost obscene, her scent filling his nose as he continued to thrust into her warmth. 

"Touch it," he whispered against her neck, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat of her skin. "I want to feel you come."

It had barely been a couple of minutes, but she was ready, the tension always seeming to help spill her over the edge. Reaching between them, Cersei's left hand disappeared into her panties as she found her swollen clit. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she began to touch herself, Jaime pacing himself with her. The underwear proved to be a nuisance, but when she found her brother staring down at where their bodies became one, she knew he was enjoying the obstacle as the lace rubbed against him. 

"I'm going to come," she breathed, garnering his attention once more as her wrist worked faster. Without a word, he pumped his hips faster, the tip of him hitting the deepest part of her. Cersei felt impossibly full, a complete feeling of ecstasy as she wished she could hold off her orgasm for a moment longer just to feel him like this. 

"Cersei...," Her name fell from his lips as if it was the only word he knew. Closing his eyes, he moved, trying not to lose himself before she did. Every moment it seemed more difficult, she felt tighter, their bodies in competition, wanting to pull the same thing from the other. But then she fell apart between his body and the wall, her thighs squeezing his hips as she meant to control his thrusts, to slow him down. Still, Jaime broke through it, pushing harder and letting himself go, spilling inside her as he had done countless times before. 

The night slipped away from them as they collapsed together on the floor of the kitchen. It was their last night together, amidst shattered glass and dying flowers, packing boxes and the darkness. There were no words spoken, no regrets, and not a thought about the impending wedding. All seem still, so quiet and peaceful, like nothing was able to tear apart the world they had created...together.


End file.
